The morning rush had just started to ease—the crowd thinning slightly as people headed to work or home—when two men walked in.
Ivy noticed them immediately. Not because they looked dangerous, but because they looked wrong. Out of place in a way that made her skin prickle with awareness. They wore expensive outdoor gear that was too clean, too new—the kind of clothes city people bought when they wanted to look rugged but had never actually spent a night in the woods. Their boots were pristine. Their jackets still had the fold lines from the store.
City boys playing at mountain men.
The taller one had cold eyes that tracked over the space with casual dismissal before landing on Ivy. His gaze slid over her in a way that made her stomach clench—assessing, calculating, reducing her to someth
